


There Is No Never Land

by YoungestThunderbird



Series: Arcadia [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha needs help, Angst, Cody needs a different kind of help, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kamino wasn't a nice place before Shaak Ti arrived, Kaminoans are Jerks, Obi-Wan is the emotionally competent one, Obi-wan is this close to being adopted as older brother, fluff then angst than more fluff, for a single solitary moment, please read safely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungestThunderbird/pseuds/YoungestThunderbird
Summary: Obi-wan is getting a new Padawan. Cody is grappling with the idea of looking after a tiny person who isn't a brother. Alpha-17 is struggling with emotions in general. The GAR's two most notorious "textbook soldiers" and the "perfect Jedi" really need a hug. Luckily, they get one.TW: mentioned past child abuse. Nothing graphic, but be safe.
Relationships: Alpha-17 & CC-2224 | Cody, Alpha-17 & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Alpha-17, Cody & Zatt, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Zatt
Series: Arcadia [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939405
Comments: 12
Kudos: 549





	There Is No Never Land

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: child abuse.   
> Content: Non-graphic and very vague descriptions of it in the past, but the theme is present in this work. Please read safely.

Cody was worried. This was not unusual, as the unfortunate downside to the command rank was command responsibility, but the reason he was worried was. The General was getting a new Padawan today. The kid was good, a little Nautolan Initiate called Zatt that was playful and shy in near-equal measures, but Cody still worried. 

He was tiny! And curious! Everybody knew those qualities were the second most trouble-causing qualities in a Padawan-Commander! Just look at Dume and Kestis!

He should just count his lucky stars that the kid would take a while to become big and curious, which were the most trouble-causing qualities. Looking at you, Skywalker. 

He took another sip of his eighth cup of tea (he did not have a problem, he could quit anytime he liked, he just didn’t want to). 

It’s not that he didn’t like the kid. He was cute, in the way all kids were, and he was eager to please. And he loved them all already, with the surety of a child. Waxer and Boil were over the karking moon. 

Even Wooley had started to open up to the kid; carrying him around piggyback and giving him misinformation about clones in the legion. Cody did not eat small children, thank you very much. Even if they did spill his tea. 

Mostly his worries were about taking care of a non-Clone child. He only knew how to treat little brothers, or Padawan-Commanders. Kenobi was very clear that his kid was not going to be a Commander, just a Padawan. He didn’t know how to treat civilians that he wasn’t trying to evacuate from a war zone. 

He’d talked to Grey, but that wasn’t very helpful. Cody wasn’t ready to be a _buir_ (1); and Grey had adopted his kid pretty much as soon as he set eyes on him, though he didn’t admit it to himself until much later. He’d waited even longer to admit it to the kid. 

Rex had tried to give advice, but Ahsoka had never really been that small. Smaller than a shiny, yes, snippy, definitely, but she has been fourteen when she arrived, and she came up to the trooper’s shoulders. And she had been feisty, and spoken her mind. Her love had been earned, not given unconditionally. Rex’s advice didn’t really apply. 

The Commander, from Iron Battalion, was even less helpful, making several pithy comments on the correct timing for blaster deflection exercises. He had also mentioned the necessity of screwing the vent work shut to keep inquisitive small Commanders out. 

Cody had modified the last piece of advice slightly, making sure that the ship’s water mains required passcodes to access. Maintenance was a bit perturbed, but they would probably be much more perturbed having to fish small aquatic Padawans out of the filtration system, so he didn’t really pay them any mind. 

He was sitting in Kenobi’s office, feeling quite out of place, with a ‘Welcome to the 212th’ kit on his lap. While some of the items inside were military standard issue, notably a small version of a field camping kit, some were not. Nestled among the Nautolan-approved ration bars obtained from General Fisto was an extra lightsaber hook, for those times when Kenobi lost his saber and Cody wasn’t around. There was a pot of white paint and a small pot of 212th orange paint, and a chip with all the trooper’s comm codes on it, to download on the kid’s comm. There were also handmade items: a map of the Negotiator and a painted cup for tea, from Boil and Waxer respectively, among others. 

Nestled on the bottom of the repurposed food crate was an authentic Kenobi Cloak; one of the literal hundreds the man had lost and the legion had found. At this point, every trooper in Ghost Company had one. They made good blankets. 

Instead of putting one of the recently-lost cloaks in, Cody had taken the one that he kept in his office cot for late nights and donated that. He could get a new one, and sometimes the best thing you could do for a nervous little brother was give them something of yours, even if it was identical to something new. 

He wasn’t looking forward to explaining the cloak to Kenobi, though. The man didn’t know about the legion’s cloak-collecting habit; he probably just thought there were thousands of the things just rotting away on abandoned battlefields. 

Kenobi’s practice of just tossing a cloak aside had seemed wasteful, the first time Cody had seen it, so he had picked it up with the idea to return it. However, by the time he had gotten back to Kenobi, his General had already picked up a new cloak, so Cody had just... kept it. 

It had stayed in his pack until that night, when it was cold enough that he was scrounging for extra blanket material. The men could sleep huddled together, but he had a small bunk/office tent and slept alone. He had found it, and it had just been so warm, and it felt safe, like when his General was covering his back. He had kept one with his bedroll ever since. 

He had started picking other discarded cloaks up, too, and giving them to his men who seemed to particularly need it. The shinies who couldn’t sleep for nerves, and the veterans who woke screaming with night terrors, and his officers who couldn’t sleep with their squad mates anymore because that might imply favoritism. 

Even Rex, when the man mentioned how cold and lonely some of his missions were, had received one. Skywalker and Tano, when it was discovered that the cloak Rex had could only fit two, had received one apiece as well. 

And wasn’t that a sight, Cody mused, remembering the first time he had seen Skywalker and Tano and Rex piled together on a cold night like batchmates. He squashed the jealousy that rose at the memory; he had no right to ask that of Kenobi. The man was busy, and uncomfortable with physical affection besides. That was part of why Cody had never told him about the robes. 

Cody tried not to fidget. He hadn’t been this nervous since he was a cadet. Even when he met Kenobi, he was fairly self-assured. He and Rex had already been taken aside by Alpha-17 and given a lecture on what to expect from Kenobi and Skywalker, peppered with threats concerning what Alpha would do to them if either Jedi was injured under their watch. Though Alpha had painted Skywalker as more annoying and Kenobi as more naive then they actually were. 

Cody needed to talk to Alpha again. He missed him. Alpha was the primary trainer for his batch, and had been incredibly tough but also impartial and secretly gentle for most of his training. By the time Cody shipped out, Alpha even sassed at him sometimes. That was the closest Alpha got to anyone. 

The door opened, and the small Nautolan ran through, with Kenobi in leisurely pursuit. The kid launched himself at Cody, and it was only Cody’s reflexes with little brothers that kept him from dropping the kid entirely. As it was, they ended up in an awkward, one-sided hug. The kid started chattering away at him, a mile a minute, but Cody could only hold him and try to keep him from falling. 

He really needed to speak to Alpha-17. 

...

Alpha-17 was having a blast. He was running behind some seven-year-old cadets, chasing them through a rudimentary obstacle course that he had jury-rigged from the offloaded agricultural complex from one of the Dreadnoughts. 

The goal of the course was simple: two teams would fight a mock running battle from one end of the facility to the other. Whichever team got the most scores one the other and the least marks on the hydroponics equipment and adult clones working the facility won. 

It was a decent way of approximating a moving combat scenario in a populated area. Alpha had even taken the time to instruct the adult clones manning the facility to act like frightened civilians, i.e., run and hide or panic at the appearance of the battling cadets. While this would provide an excellent simulation of civilian interference, it also provided some humor. 

Clones didn’t really know how to act panicky like civilians, so you got either incredibly stilted (“Oh no. I’m in danger.”) or incredibly over-the-top (“Heeeelp! heeelp! Some one save meee! Oh handsome Mr. Clone Sir, saaaave Meee!”) reactions. Some brothers had decided their acting skills weren’t up to par and simply smashed overripe fruit onto vital parts and pretended to be wounded and unconscious. Quality comedy material all around. 

This was so much better than the courses at Kamino. Here, he could run cadets wherever he wanted, so long as he notified the appropriate authorities. He didn’t have to worry about if he was pushing the kids fast enough. The kids actually smiled and laughed during the exercise, and he could get a good laugh out of it too. He could give the winners a bowlful of various fresh fruit under the guise of ‘grateful civilians thanking the brave soldiers.’ He snuck the losers some, too, because their faces were just so disappointed. 

The only downside were the random Jedi Padawans that would join in on the exercises in disguise. Today, he was running some of the cadets assigned to the Albedo Brave, and admittedly they were doing well. They were halfway into the second round of running when one of the cadets tripped and his helmet came off, only to reveal... red hair and grey eyes?

“Cal!” Shouted the cadet next to the kid, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Fritz, I’m fine. Let’s go!” The kid, Cal apparently, immediately got up, jammed his helmet on, and continued the exercise. 

Alpha kept an eye on the kid for the rest of the run, but he didn’t look to be cheating. His team even lost, for kriff’s sake. When the cadets formed into parade rest, he grabbed the Padawan by the scruff and hauled him to the front. 

“What the kark is this?” He asked bluntly. 

“That’s Cal, Sir, and he’s a who, not a what,” came the response of the Cadet Captain. Snarky little thing. 

“He’s not a clone,” Alpha barked, removing the cadet helmet for emphasis. Cal blinked at him innocently. 

“Commander said to learn with the cadets while my Master’s busy,” the little red-headed rascal said. 

“You’re not a clone,” Alpha reminded him. Evidently the little idiot had forgotten. 

Kenobi was weird like that too, always treating them like equals. Maybe it was the red hair?

He missed Kenobi. Best friend he ever had. Only friend he ever had. Pity Alpha was broken and useless now; he’d have liked to serve with Kenobi longer, to keep the idealistic karker out of trouble. 

“He’s a brother, Sir, even if he’s not a Clone,” put in the Cadet Captain. Alpha was not paid enough to deal with this kark, in fact he was not paid at all, so he simply sighed and dismissed the entire lot. Cal was immediately enveloped in a chattering group of cadets and on the way to the door. 

Cody had been waiting in the corner of the room. What the kriff was he doing there? He should be aboard the Negotiator, keeping an eye on that trusting idiot Kenobi. 

Cody raised his hand, stopping his questions, probably foreseeing them all. He was good like that, hearing what people didn’t say. That’s why Alpha made sure he was put with Kenobi. Kenobi never said anything important about himself out loud. 

“I was wondering if you had advice to give me,” Cody carefully did not ask. 

He had picked up Kenobi’s evasiveness now, wonderful. 

“The shooty end goes toward the other guy,” deadpanned Alpha. 

“I need to ask about Padawans,” Cody was getting more direct. 

“They’re loud, untrained, naive, reckless, and a nightmare to be under the command of. If you have a choice between having a Padawan as your superior officer and jumping off a cliff, choose the cliff.”

“Kenobi has a new Padawan,” Cody slumped. 

“Well, kriff,” said Alpha, “What’s the damage?”

He was expecting recklessness, or impulsivity, things that got soldiers killed. Even petulance or indifference to the lives of the men. Skywalker had his moments before he was forced to straighten up and fly right. Rex had been a good officer for him. 

But Cody surprised him.

“He’s tiny! And so sweet! He’s never going to command us, Kenobi made that clear. But he loves us! Already! He’s only known us a few tendays! I don’t know what to do!” Cody actually sounded truly distraught. Oh. A different kind of problem then. 

“Well, kids tend to love the adults taking care of them. Hardwired biology. It’s a sign you’ve done something right,” Alpha mentioned. He didn’t like where this was going, it led to dangerous territory for him and the other Alpha clones. 

“But what if I hurt him?” Cody was calming down a bit, but Alpha didn’t really have any reassurance at all for him about that subject. 

“You’ll hurt him eventually, totally by accident. You make mistakes, and the things that you think are best aren’t always actually good. All you can do is love him, and try, and hope you don’t screw up too bad.”

Alpha really hated to tell Cody that. It was all he had to give, though. He hoped that Cody didn’t pry further. 

“How do you know if you did okay?” Cody asked. 

There went that hope. 

“When he flies the coop, he’ll come back and see you sometimes. Ask for advice,” Alpha managed to choke out. Bad subject. This was a bad subject. This was the kind of topic that sent Alphas for reconditioning at Kamino. 

The Alphas were always held to higher standards than even the CCs. They were supposed to be the Republic’s perfect killing machines; cold, unfeeling, deadly. The Alphas learned very early on not to let on that they had any emotions; it was easier that way. Then the Kaminoans gave them kids. 

Tiny little kids, in batches of thirty-six. Kids who looked up at them like they hung the stars. Kids that they were forced to run through absolutely brutal training with the warning that if the Alphas were not stern enough, cold enough, ruthless enough, those same kids would be forced through the same hellish training and held to the same standards the Alphas had been.

So the Alphas did. They trained as hard as they dared, pushed as much as they could without hurting the kids. They watched the spark in the kids’ eyes dim until it was near unrecognizable. And they never forgave themselves. 

Cody had been one of Alpha’s kids. Alpha looked into the eyes of the man next to him, noting that somehow that spark had flared to a flame, and still did not forgive himself. 

...

Obi-wan Kenobi wandered to Hydroponics Facility 12, looking for Cody. Cody had been incredibly nervous, or even scared, because of Zett. He had listened politely to the boy’s chatter, and nodded at all the correct places, but something in his eyes was carefully blank, and his Force signature gave absolutely nothing away. The last time Obi-wan had seen him like that, they had been facing Ventress. 

He walked into the facility, looking around for Cody, and spotted him sitting in a corner with another Clone, facing a window to the grasslands outside. Not Rex, though he was wearing blue similar to 501st colors. 

He walked around a column and froze. That wasn’t a 501st member, that was Alpha-17. His first commander. The man who was tortured with him for months by Ventress, who was injured badly enough to be taken off the front lines, due to Obi-wan’s own mistake. 

Obi-wan shouldn’t be here; Alpha didn’t want to see him, hadn’t even tried to comm him since he was shipped back to Kamino. Perfectly reasonable, after how much trauma the man probably associated him with. It didn’t stop him from missing the Clone, but a Jedi is not controlled by their emotions. 

He turned to leave, but Cody’s voice stopped him. 

“Alpha, are you alright?” Cody actually sounded worried, and had that special tone in his voice that meant he was asking after emotional well-being rather than physical. And if Cody was worried, so was Obi-wan; Obi-wan knew he wasn’t good with emotional interaction, so Cody helped him greatly by defining what was and wasn’t normal or healthy. 

“Alphas are always alright,” gritted out Alpha, in the inflectionless tones the man was known for. Somehow, the bluster fell a bit flat, but Cody evidently decided to take it at face value. Probably out of respect to his mentor, he endeavored to change the subject. 

“Why did my CC class never get fruit from ‘grateful civilians’?” Cody had a humorous tone in his voice, obviously expecting a gruff or sarcastic reply. 

Alpha’s distress spiked noticeably in the Force. For a moment, Obi-wan thought the man had seen him and been thrown into a flashback. He started forward, thinking to help the man, only for Cody to do the same thing. 

Alpha started trying to wave Cody off, switching to lightly battering on his armor when the man wouldn’t leave. 

“Go take care of Kenobi,” he grunted, “The _di’kut_ (2) is probably in trouble somewhere by now.”

“I’m fine, Alpha. Are you alright?” Obi-wan ventured to ask. 

Cody looked up and nodded. Alpha, however, grabbed Cody and spun around incredibly quickly, letting his face go blank as a cooling unit door. 

“General,” he greeted. It was incredibly eerie to see him there, standing to perfect attention, with his Force presence near-screaming with horror and shame and echoes of fear. 

Alpha, no matter what he said, was not alright. Cody evidently came to the same conclusion.

“You’re on Dantooine, Alpha, in the Jedi Enclave. You’re with Cody and Kenobi, and you just finished running the kids through an obstacle course in Hydro Bay 12,” he murmured soothingly. 

“I know that! Go away!” Snapped Alpha. 

Obi-wan froze. This was not a flashback, then. Something else. 

He probably would never have known what was wrong if Alpha hadn’t noticed that he was gripping Cody’s wrist tightly. He turned white, and immediately let go. It was only because Obi-wan was looking closely at the man that he noticed Alpha bring his arms to himself, folded behind his back back like a parade rest, but with his palms placed flat on his back in a... self-comforting gesture? 

He had done that often, when he was first assigned to Obi-wan. Obi-wan, knowing nothing of the military, thought it was a variation of parade rest. It was only after Alpha had been reassigned to Kamino that he learned differently. 

It occurred to Obi-wan that Alpha never referred to himself as a person. It also occurred to him that he had never seen him be affectionate with any other Clone, even the children. 

The Alphas were the first Clones. They were raised by uncaring Kaminoan scientists and cruel _dar’manda_ (3) instructors. Alpha-17 used to flinch when Obi-wan got too close. 

And then the Alphas trained the CCs. Cody used to mention that Alpha was tough on them, mostly because the Kaminoans were breathing down his neck, and that when they were younger he and his batchmates thought Alpha was a droid because he never showed any emotion if he could help it. 

“Get away from me! I hurt you, why are you trying to help me? Go away!” Alpha had finally let inflection into his voice. If only it was in different circumstances. 

“You’re a person, Alpha. You deserve help,” Obi-wan said gently. 

“I’m a broken soldier, I’m useless to the Jedi, I am not to bother them. I am lucky I can still train cadets, I am too soft on the kids, if I do not hurt the cadets, my trainers will,” Alpha recited. He leveled a flat look at them. 

Cody flinched. Obi-wan simply grew more and more horrified with every word in the sentence. 

“You are not broken, you are not just a soldier, you are not useless to anyone, Jedi or otherwise; you are not a bother, you are my friend. You are Cody’s elder brother. And if you were forced to hurt him, that is not your fault,” Obi-wan insisted. 

“Don’t do that to yourself!” Cody yelled, at nearly the same time, “You did the best you could. You looked the other way when ‘25 smuggled sweets in, and when ‘03 fell off his bunk you bandaged him up so we didn’t have to go to a Kaminoan doc, and when ‘31 died you gave us our Rim-pox vaccine the next day so we didn’t have to train for a week, so we could mourn properly.”

“It wasn’t enough!” Alpha yelled. 

“It was all you could give! That makes it enough!”

Alpha had tears glittering from the corner of his eyes. Obi-wan sat on the bench, along with Cody, and they guided Alpha to sit between them until Alpha had finished letting the tears fall. 

Eventually he started to lean into Obi-wan, and then Cody started to lean into the huddle as well. Alpha put an arm over his little brother’s shoulders, and Cody lit up. 

Then Obi-wan began to speak. 

“You have committed a wrong. Under duress, yes, but a wrong, as you acknowledge fully and take personal responsibility- don’t argue with me, you are a person. However, it is Cody’s prerogative as the wronged party to forgive you, and he has. Who are you to decide his judgement is faulty?”

Cody nodded. 

“Where are you bunking, _ori’vod_ (4)?” He asked, gently. 

“I lay a bedroll in the grass outside, when I’m on planet, and I get officer’s quarters when I’m on orbital defense duty,” Alpha answered cautiously. 

He was bunking alone. Of course he was. No wonder no one noticed he was hurting. 

It struck Obi-wan that Alpha was much like himself; both of them had lived for such a long time as a solitary individual, they didn’t know how to be part of a group. At least Obi-wan had Anakin, when he felt alone. Alpha had no one. 

They needed to check on the other Alphas too, make sure they weren’t operating under the same awful mental framework. And Obi-wan resolved to spend more time with Alpha-17. He had missed the man, and Alpha seemed to miss him. Maybe they could help integrate each other into this new community they were suddenly part of. 

Cody sighed. 

“Come on, ori’vod,” He beckoned, “let’s get you set up on the Negotiator. I want to keep you close. This won’t be solved in one day, but we can start now. And I have a Padawan I want you to meet.”

...

Zatt was still over the moon, though the shine had dulled a bit. Master Kenobi had accepted him as Padawan! Master Kenobi was amazing! He had been taken from the crèche aboard the Starbird to his new berth at the Negotiator, and he’d gotten to unpack. Any room felt more like home with model starfighters hanging from the ceiling. 

Then Master Kenobi had taken him on a tour of the Negotiator, and everyone who saw him hugged him when they saw his new Padawan braid. Then they talked about painting his armor ‘properly,’ or so they said. Zatt was going to miss the riot of colors in his armor, but he was looking forward to having Padawan’s white. He wanted to prove he belonged. 

The only downside was Commander Cody seemed odd. He had gotten to see the Commander for a little bit over the last few tendays, when he was getting to know the 212th. Commander Cody was so cool! He watched Master Kenobi’s back, and he made sure that as many men as possible got home safe. But he seemed weird. He wasn’t like Katooni said her Commander was like, a terrifying guy who gives good hugs. Commander Cody was quiet, almost like he was scared of Zatt. 

Which would be really weird. Zatt was under no illusions on his size or martial prowess. Commander Cody punched droids to death. One brand-new Jedi Padawan stood no chance. 

Zatt had actually hoped to learn some of the Commander’s skills. Every preteen boy found the idea of winning hand-to-hand combat with droids inspiring. 

He was hanging out with Waxer and Boil when his Master poked his head in. 

“Ah, Zatt, could you meet me in the office? I need to introduce you to someone,” he called. 

Zatt made his excuses to Waxer and Boil and followed his Master. He was still practicing on walking the appropriate two steps behind and one to the left that most Padawans were supposed to stay to. 

His Master walked to his office, smiled at him, and opened the door. Inside was a Commander Cody, and another Clone that Zatt didn’t know. He looked almost like a Clone from the 501st, but he’d already met a lot of his brother Padawan’s legion and none of them were that intimidating. 

“I see what you mean,” the mysterious terrifying blue Clone said to Cody. Cody just sighed. 

“Zatt, this is my older brother Alpha-17. He’s a _shebs_ (5), but also the best person to have your back in a firefight. He’s probably going to help with your training, so stop laughing, Alpha.”

The last bit was pointed, and Alpha-17 stopped chuckling. He eyed Zatt nervously. 

What was with all these Clones being nervous around him? He wasn’t that scary!

“Are you sure you want me specifically to train the cute impressionable young child?” Alpha asked slowly. 

“I turned out okay, and if any Kaminoans come here to mess your good work up they’ll be shot,” Commander Cody laughed wryly, “And you have more experience with kids than I do.”

“And I’ll help, of course. Duties as Master, and all,” Master Kenobi’s voice was dry as dust. 

“Well, Kenobi, I don’t know how to tell you this, but your blaster skills suck and you cannot conduct a sneak attack to save your life. Someone needs to teach the kid these things,” Alpha-17 said. 

Master Kenobi snorted. 

Commander Cody turned to Zatt again, and kneeled down so they were about the same height. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant, earlier. I’ve been... nervous, and worried, about getting a new Padawan. I’ve never had a Padawan before, and I didn’t want to hurt you,” Commander Cody said. 

Zatt didn’t know what to say to that. So, he took the advice that the How-to-Padawan classes had been most enthusiastic about and just hugged Commander Cody. The Commander hugged back. 

Katooni was right. Commanders did give good hugs. 

Commander Cody let him go after a while and turned to the side, to a small ration box. 

“This is for you,” he said, “From the 212th.”

Zatt looked at the box. It was ration bars for Nautolans! Cool! 

“What flavor are they, Commander?” He asked. 

Commander Cody blinked, and then shook his head. 

“Ah, we don’t have blank boxes. The present is inside the box,” he muttered embarrassedly, “Though I’m told the bars are a very nice eel flavor. And call me Cody.”

Zatt nodded and distractedly opened the box. 

His eyes widened. 

“Is that paint? For my armor?” He couldn’t contain his smile, and he saw Master Kenobi smile as well. 

“But I haven’t earned yellow paint yet,” he said confusedly, after seeing the second pot. 

“Kid, from what I understand, you already ran your first mission and performed exemplarily. You’ve earned it,” Comman- no, he said to call him Cody- said. 

Alpha-17 looked up curiously. 

“I’ll explain later,” Master Kenobi said, “His trip to Illum was more eventful than is usual.”

“What’s this?” Zatt asked, holding up a belt hook. It looked like it was for a lightsaber, except for a larger one than he himself had. 

“That’s for when Kenobi loses his saber and you have to bring it back to him,” Cody mentioned. 

“What!” Alpha-17 turned a really interesting shade of red really fast, “You lose your weapon? Repeatedly? How are you still alive?”

“I bring it back quickly,” Cody deadpanned, and motioned to the identical hook on his belt. Alpha-17 did not get any less red. 

Zatt decided to stay out of that discussion. 

“What’s this?” He lifted the folded brown material out of the bottom of the box. 

“Extra blanket,” Cody said nonchalantly. Deliberately nonchalantly. 

Master Kenobi looked at the material suspiciously. 

“Cody, is that one of my cloaks?” He asked with a dawning sense of horror. 

“No, it’s a blanket,” Cody returned placidly. 

Master Kenobi shook it out. It did, indeed, look like a robe. It was even Master Kenobi’s size. 

“Cody, this is clearly my robe,” he insisted. 

“Where would I have gotten one of your robes?” Cody questioned innocently, “You can count the ones in your closet if you’d like.”

Master Kenobi looked closer. 

“This is a warm-weather robe. I haven’t worn one of these for months. I lost my last one on... no,” he looked at Cody with dawning horror. 

“This one was from Hays Minor. The second time,” Cody muttered, indicating the robe. 

“That was two years ago!” Master Kenobi protested. 

“Well, it’s a good blanket. I’ve had it on the cot in my office since then,” Cody mentioned. 

“And is this the only cloak you’ve repurposed into a blanket?” Master Kenobi asked. 

Cody looked shifty. Alpha-17 started cackling in the background. 

“No,” Cody said carefully. 

“Is there anyone you know well that you haven’t given a cloak to?” Master Kenobi just started to look tired. 

“The Wolfpack,” Cody ticked off on his fingers, “because they can ask for their own General’s cloaks, and Wolffe’s a shebs; most of the 501st, I’ve only given one to Skywalker, Tano, and Rex; and Alpha, because I never see him,” he jerked his thumb over at Alpha-17, who was still giggling in the corner. Master Kenobi’s eyes softened. He handed the cloak back to Zatt. 

It was really a very nice cloak, warm, inviting. It felt like his Master, but it also felt like Cody. 

He almost missed his Master taking his own cloak off his shoulders and swirling it into Alpha-17’s lap. Alpha-17 stopped giggling. 

“Happy housewarming, Alpha. I have to beat Cody to it, you understand,” he smiled welcomingly. Alpha-17 looked up in wonder, and hugged the cloak to himself. 

Zatt smiled at the moment, but couldn’t contain himself anymore.

He smiled up at Cody and asked, as enthusiastically as possible, “Can you teach me how to punch droids to death?”

“What!?” Spluttered Alpha-17, again, “Punching droids! I know you have very good marksmanship skills, Cody, I taught you to shoot. Use them!”

He sat up straight and glared at the other two adults in the room. 

“That’s it! You are not allowed to train the kid.”

He looped an arm over Zatt’s shoulders. 

“Congrats kid, you are now my Padawan. We start training tomorrow at 0600.”

He was hit in the face by a cushion and Zatt was picked up by his Master. They watched the two Clones have a pillow fight, arguing loudly about training schedules, and Zatt felt tired but content. He belonged. He finally belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Mandalorian: Parent  
> 2\. Mandalorian: idiot  
> 3\. Mandalorian: ‘No longer Mandalorian’; a Mandalorian who has broken a tenet of Mandalorian culture in such a severe way that they are not considered Mandalorian anymore. The penalty is not only cultural but religious; to give up being Mandalorian is to give up your soul. One such tenet is caring for children; Mandalorians love kids.   
> 4\. Mandalorian: big brother/elder sibling. Used as a form of affectionate address.   
> 5\. Mandalorian: A**hole


End file.
